Her heart began to pound again. Her breasts swayed. Her hair hung in damp tangles around her face, sweeping the floor. His shaft swelled, pushed deep and spread her tight sheath muscles even more when it didn't seem possible.
Hot breath blasted her. For a moment she swore she felt the slide of fur along her shoulder and then teeth drove deep, long, razor-sharp canines, in a holding bite. She cried out and thrashed beneath him, but he refused to let go. Deep inside, that wild, feral other rose until she felt an itch running like waves under her skin and fire burned between her thighs. She dropped her head, panting away the pain, accepting of Remy and his crazy, rough sex. Whatever was inside of her embraced him. Needed him. Wanted him. And was every bit as savage as he was.
Slowly the teeth slipped from her skin and his tongue lapped at the wounds. He began to move, sending streaks of fire racing over her body, burning through her veins and settling into her battered sheath. She never wanted him to stop. The sensations were stronger than ever, pleasure rushing over her while he slammed into her with furious intent. She couldn't stop the all-encompassing orgasm, the way it took her belly and breasts and rode down to her thighs.
Remy caught her by the hair and jerked her head back, adding a myriad of sensations burning through her body, increasing the strength of her muscles contracting around his shaft. Still he didn't stop and neither did her orgasm. Her body shuddered and pulsed in frenzied insanity. She heard herself scream as another orgasm ripped through her. Remy emptied himself into her as she pulsed around him.
Too weak to hold herself up, Bijou would have collapsed on the floor if Remy hadn't held on to her.
"What in the world did you do to me?" she whispered. "What's wrong with me?"
"Nothin' is wrong with you," Remy assured, kissing her spine.
She made a derisive sound in her throat. There was something very much wrong with her, but she didn't have the energy to argue. "I can't move. I really can't. I'm so exhausted I think I'll sleep here. Just leave me."
Remy slipped out of her. She didn't turn around, but let herself collapse right there on the floor. She closed her eyes and heard him move. The bed creaked and groaned as if a heavy weight had landed on it. She heard ripping as if something tore apart the heavy drapes or the walls, but honestly, she wasn't about to lift her head, even if she could. It felt good to just lie there and listen to her heart beating semi-normally.
The terrible thunder was gone, and for the moment, she felt sated, the burning gone between her legs. Terrified the sensation would start again, she kept her eyes closed tight so she couldn't see Remy, afraid he was the trigger. She hoped she'd just go to sleep and wake up to find the entire episode was only one of her erotic dreams about him. True, she'd never quite dreamt so vividly or imagined in any way that sex with Remy would be so perfect or brutal, but in her own right she was an artist and entitled to a vivid imagination.
She heard the water go on in the bathtub and smelled lavender. She couldn't move. Remy had to leave. It was nice of him to run a bath for her, which she was certain he was doing, but she wasn't about to face him even if she could. Which she couldn't because she couldn't get off the floor. Satisfied that she made perfect sense, she kept her eyes closed.
"Come on, Blue. We have to get you into hot water."
She managed to wiggle her fingers, trying to shoo him. "Go away. Really, Remy. I'm not movin'. I'm sleepin' right here and I'll think about all this tomorrow."
He laughed softly. "If you don' get into that bath, chere, you won' be walkin' tomorrow. Come on."
Ignoring her murmur of protest and the hand that tried to bat him away, Remy lifted her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. It wasn't fair that he still had strength and she was virtually spaghetti. Every muscle felt deliciously bruised and battered. Her body felt used and decadent.
In a horrible, secret part of her mind, she was elated--shocked, of course--but so intensely happy that she had it in her to keep up just a bit with Remy Boudreaux. Or even that he wanted her for a single night, let alone made her state that she was his alone.
She realized her thighs were sticky and she was an absolute mess. How did a woman gracefully retreat after crazy sex? She had no idea, but she had to open her eyes soon and she could tell he was staring down at her. She could feel those piercing, intelligent eyes focused on her face.
Bijou took a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking, not at him, but at the room she rented from Saria. One wall had a caved-in spot with several cracks racing up it. Another wall, over by the bed, had furrows dug deep as if a large tiger or a bear had raked it with two claws. The bed sagged from the broken board. The sheets were in bloodstained strips and a lamp was knocked over and broken on the floor.
"Oh, my God." She covered her red face with her hands. "What am I goin' to tell Saria? We've ruined her beautiful room."
Not only was she going to have to face Remy in the daylight, but there was no way to keep Saria from finding out what had taken place in this room. Or just how crazy she'd acted with Remy.
"I'm puttin' you in the water, chere. Don' be thinking about the room. We can fix the room up. This is going to sting a little. I put some salts in there as well."
He didn't lower her feet as she expected, but stepped into the tub with her and just sank down. Frankly, she was too exhausted to care how she got in the water, but the moment the extreme heat hit her sex she tried to scramble out of his arms. Remy tightened his hold on her and forced her down into the water.
"Your body needs this whether you think so or not."
She blew out her breath, but already, the hot water was beginning to soothe her sore, raw body. "I guess I'll let you live a little longer," she said grudgingly. "But you really do have to stop bossin' me around."
He laughed softly, shifting her off his lap and over to one side of the large claw-foot tub. "That's not likely to ever happen, woman, so don' hold your breath."
She leaned her head against the high back and allowed her lashes to drift down again. "My arms feel like noodles. I don' think I'll ever be able to walk again either."
"Give yourself a few minutes, Blue. The water will revive you in no time." Remy cleared his throat. Waited until she looked at him from under her long lashes. Guilt rode him hard. "Listen, honey, I knew you were a virgin and I should have taken more care with you. I didn't hold back or take that into consideration at all and I apologize."
Her lashes fluttered and she closed her eyes again. A small smile curved her lower lip. That fantasy lower lip he wanted to lean forward and bite.
"Seriously? Remy, I think it's a little too late for either of us to think about that now. I know you want your apology to be sincere, but how could it be after the way we were together?" She frowned. "Or is that the way it always is when one has sex, because if so, I've been missing out."
She had a point. Still, he wished he could have been just a little gentler initially. He winced a little at that, "when one has sex." She didn't say "make love" like every other woman he knew would have. He had definitely had savage, brutal leopard sex with her, but still . . .
He didn't understand why her female hadn't emerged and it worried him just a little bit. He was certain he was right about Bijou and her cat, he'd even felt his male reacting to what he thought was her female, yet Bijou hadn't been forced to shift.
He pushed both hands through his hair and studied her face. There were shadows there and around her neck little smudges and love bites. The back of her neck had been marked by his cat, claiming her. She was sore, bruised and feeling guilty as sin. How did he explain her leopard to her?
"Sex will never be like that with anyone else," Remy said honestly, "so you're better off sticking with me."
That faint smile appeared again. "Or I could be dead in a week after spending time with you." A blush crept up her chest and neck. She still wouldn't look at him.
He couldn't imagine how she felt. She'd shed every inhibition and had absolutely no idea why. If he b
lurted out, "Hon, you're a leopard, just like me,"' she'd run for the hills and he couldn't blame her. He should have tried to explain before they'd ever gotten started, but he was too far gone, too far into the frenzied thrall of mating.
"It would be a hell of a way to go," Remy said, injecting humor into his voice. He could still lose her. She was out of her depth and fighting not to be ashamed of herself when there was nothing to be ashamed of.
"Wouldn't it?" She tilted her chin. "Why haven't you ever married?"
That was a loaded question if he ever heard one. He turned her around and picked up the spray nozzle so he could wash her hair. "I never found the right person. For me it was far better to be alone than to be with the wrong woman. I'll never be an easy man to live with and my woman will have to put up with a lot, so there was no doubt in my mind I'd better find the right one if I was going to be with someone."
He massaged her scalp, trying to ease some of the tension from her. The bite mark on the back of her neck was deeper than he had intended. He couldn't help but lean forward and brush a kiss over the wound. She seemed to drift a little while he rinsed, towel dried and then braided her hair into a long, thick rope.
Bijou suddenly jerked away, turning her head toward him, her eyes wide with fear and shock. "Remy." She said his name like a talisman, her white knight, the only man she could trust in a frightening situation.